What We Left Unfinished

At three thirty that afternoon, the Regulatory Affairs meeting was still underway. “The Phase 3 clinical study report for JS-01 is complete,” the department head said. “The long-term follow-up data requested during our pre-NDA meeting will be filed by Friday. We’ve finished two internal reviews of the submission package, so we’ll be ready to file the New Drug Application next week.” He turned to the final page. “Manufacturing has also completed process validation. All three batches met specifications. From this point on, we’ll be preparing for the FDA’s pre-approval inspection and responding to any additional information requests.” Adrian read the report, then tapped one page with his finger. “Reconcile the serious adverse event data with the clinical sites one more time.” “I’ll have Clinical Development review it today. You’ll have the results tomorrow afternoon.” “Good. That’s all.” The department head gathered his files and left. Adrian had just reached for the coffee Evan h

Applause rose around the ballroom. Rosalie looked at Adrian’s outstretched hand and, after a brief hesitation, placed hers in it. He led her onto the dance floor as the lights dimmed, leaving them beneath a single spotlight. The first notes began, and the smile on Rosalie’s lips faltered. It was the song they had chosen for their wedding. Back then, they had lived in an apartment near campus and hired an instructor to choreograph their first dance. Rosalie had stepped on Adrian’s shoes so often during the first few lessons that he threatened to make her practice barefoot. Eventually, she learned every signal in his hands. The smallest shift of pressure told her where he wanted her to turn. She had managed to stay composed when she saw his ring. The music proved harder. Memories she had buried for five years came rushing back, and for one dangerous moment, she forgot why she had returned. Adrian’s right hand settled at her waist while his left held hers. On the first beat

Adrian waited, his hand still at the back of Rosalie’s neck. Desire lingered in his reddened eyes, but his demand did not soften.She looked away.Marriage was impossible. She couldn’t stay long enough to give him the future he wanted, yet walking away empty-handed wasn’t an option either.If chasing him hadn’t worked, she would make him chase her.Rosalie glanced down at herself. Five years had softened the last traces of girlishness from her figure. The smoky-blue gown followed the curve of her breasts before drawing close around her narrow waist, while its parted skirt revealed one long leg. Her lipstick was half gone, leaving her mouth flushed and swollen from his kiss. A few curls had escaped her updo, lending her the lazy intimacy of a woman who had already spent the night in someone’s arms.Adrian used to lose control over far less.Her gaze dropped lower.He noticed and immediately adjusted his jacket, shifting so she could see nothing. Rosalie’s confidence took a small hit.F